


5 Times Scott McCall Thought That Stiles and Derek Have Been Spending Too Much Time Together (and the 1 Time He Figured Out the Truth)

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Oblivious Scott, derek is staying out of this, it takes a while for Scott to connect the dots, stiles is a tiny bit of an ass for not telling him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 02:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says on the tin can.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times Scott McCall Thought That Stiles and Derek Have Been Spending Too Much Time Together (and the 1 Time He Figured Out the Truth)

> **01.**  
>   
> 

The first time that Scott thought that something was up when they had been interrogating a witch who had wandered into town. For once, it had been simple enough to pick the unwelcome visitor up and bring her in to see Derek. Which really should have been the first sign that something was up.  
  


Now, he knew that he should keep his eyes on the witch (because of obvious reasons. Not that he didn’t trust Isaac because the guy must have done good job on tying the girl’s hands together but _witch_ , y'know? Always better to be safe than sorry. Scott wasn’t sure if she even needed to make some hand gestures or anything to use her freaky witchy powers. She could totally be a Bewitched! witch and just have to do a cute nsoe wriggle to turn them all into fluffy wolf plushies) but his attention kept going back to his best friend and Derek.  
  


The pair was standing shoulder to shoulder, Stiles looking nonchalant as though it wasn’t out of the ordinary that they were grilling a witch for information. Like it was a regular Monday, nothing special going on here. Derek looked his usual self, eyebrows dipping down in the middle of his forehead and adding to his general displeased air as he asked again, “Tell me again why you’re here."  
  


Again, he should have focused his attention on the witch but then Stiles had to go and prop a casual elbow up on Derek’s shoulder like they were buddies or something (no but seriously, what was Stiles thinking? Was he  _not_ attached to his entire left arm?) and lean on him as he waited for the blond woman to answer.  
  


"I’m just passing through." She replied again, her tone just shy of breezy. The tiny skip of her heartbeat made Scott twitch, his eyes darting towards her before returning to Stiles. Who was exchanging a meaningful look with Derek that lasted a grand total of two seconds before-  
  


"Whoa." Scott mumbled under his breath, taken aback by the near identical ‘that is such bullshit’ expressions that the pair was sporting. " _Freaky_." He felt a little vindicated when Erica grunted in agreement.   
  


 _Clearly_  Stiles was spending way too much time hanging around Derek if they'd started making the same bitch faces.  
  


> **02.**  
>   
> 

It was weird but it seemed to Scott that once he had realized how Stiles had picked up some of Derek’s quirks, the more obvious they seemed to be. He supposed it was a bit like noticing a spot on the wall that you hadn’t before and once you’d noticed it, it was kind of hard to not look at it.  
  


And speaking of things that were hard not to look at…  
  


Scott eyed Derek and Stiles glaring at each other behind the counter before carefully making his way behind Isaac, who was perched on a barstool and staring at the couple like they were a new episode of Game of Thrones.  
  


"What are they doing?" Scott asked in a low confused voice, voice kept hushed out of fear that he might be interrupting something important. But Isaac distractedly waved his hand, complete with a hissed ‘sssshhh!’ right under his nose so that it bopped against his mouth a few times.  
  


Okay, clearly he wasn’t getting his answer from him. But Scott would  _really_  like someone to tell him  _why_  Stiles and Derek were in such an intense staring match.  
  


Warily, Scott sat down on the empty stool next to Isaac and wondered why they making all those _faces._ What the hell was up with that? Was it silent charades? Scott had to do a quick mental date check to make sure that he hadn’t forgotten or mistaken the date of their weekly pack bonding night.  
  


But it was only Wednesday so, it wasn't charades. So...what was going on? Why did Stiles’ eyes go so wide that it was almost cartoonish? Followed by his eyebrows shooting up so high that it made Scott briefly worry that they might crawl into his hair line.  
  


It was doubly confusing when Derek responded with a half shrug, broad shoulders rising and falling stiffly. His response clearly didn’t sit right with Stiles, if you could even _call it_ a response, who let out an aborted,  _irritated_ snort before raising his hands out in supplication to the Heavens in the globally acknowledged ‘why me, God?’ pose.  
  


Derek’s eyebrows went into overtime as he glowered in response before doing a weird wiggle. Maybe Stiles was onto something when he had said that Derek’s eyebrows worked independently of the rest of his body. The alpha growled, the low warning rumble made Scott’s hackles rise and want to leave the room but Stiles simply rolled his eyes before returning the glare.   
  


Scott stared between the pair, sporting a confused frown of his own as he took in their body language. They both had their arms crossed, shoulders stiff in a way that made Scott distractedly rub the back of his neck. Their jaws were locked in that stubborn way that meant that they weren’t willing to conceed their point even under the pain of death…   
  


This could get messy, Scott mused. Although, since when had Stiles started to go toe to toe with Derek anyways?  _‘Since the start.’_  Scott couldn’t help but think wryly to himself, giving Isaac’s hand a distracted pat when the other werewolf grabbed his arm in nervous tension.  
  


 _‘I gotta talk to him about not riling Derek up so bad.’_  Scott thought to himself with a sigh. And maybe he ought to break up whatever this thing was before they started yelling at each other (which, for the record, never  _ever_ ended well. Just ask Jackson about the great Thanksgiving Pie fight from last year.)  
  
  


But much to his surprise, whatever it was it seemed to have run it’s course and was done because Derek’s shoulders slumped just so and Stiles smiled smugly.  
  


"Is this what it’s like watching your parents fight?" Isaac mumbled under his breath. Scott nodded without thinking before pausing.  
  


Wait, what?  
  


> **03.**  
>   
> 

"Did you shrink?" Scott asked, tugging on the sleeve of the dark Henley that Stiles was wearing. "And are you  _finally_ giving up the plaid look?" Seeing Stiles without plaid was kind of like seeing a shaved bear - it was very, _very_   **weird**.   
  


Stiles made a face, hopping out of Scott’s range as his fingers tugged the long sleeves over his knuckles before grumbling. “Got blood on my shirts. I had to steal this from Derek. It was either this or gray and I’m feeling more blue than gray."   
  


Not entirely sure if that was supposed to a reflection on his mood or Stiles’ urge to wear a specific color, Scott eyed the shirt with a good degree of skepticism. He hadn’t known that Stiles and Derek were at that stage of friendship where shirts could be stolen and or exchanged.   
  


On one hand, when the Hell had that happened and where was Scott during the whole thing? But on the other hand. it was nice that they were getting along at least. It was a few steps up from all the snipes and barbed comments that had been flying thick and fast during pack meetings just a few months ago.  
  


"I’m  _so_  dragging his butt to the Mall again." The mumbled comment pulled Scott out of his trip down memory lane and look over at Stiles, who was pushing the sleeves up to his elbow. “He so owes me a whole new wardrobe or  _at least_  5 new shirts."  
  


"Pretty sure it’s more like 7." Scott corrected his best friend distractedly, peering out the window of the loft. He could make out Derek’s car screeching to a halt, followed closely by Jackson’s Porsche. He ignored Stiles grumbling, preferring to anxiously wonder if everyone was alright. Which was why it took him a few minutes to process his best friend’s words. “Wait.  _Again_? You’ve been to  _the Mall_  with Derek?"  
  


Stiles paused mid-speech, blinking owlishly at Scott. “Yeah."  
  


"For  _what_?" Scott couldn’t stop himself from asking, not quite able to coax up a mental image of Derek Hale in a  _Mall_. Scott was having an easier time imagining Peter Hale in a drag. _Yulch._ Blanching at that mental image, Scott gave Stiles a curious look and wondered what was up with the pink flush rising up the other teen’s pale neck.  
  


The door slamming open made them both look at the worn out group making their way in. “You look like shit." Stiles pointed out helpfully, stepping forward towards the crew (Erica tiredly flipping him the bird before accepting his helping hand and plopped down on the couch).   
  


> **04.**  
>   
> 

"Don’t say it." Stiles declared darkly, tray and contents rattling omniously as he slammed it down on the table. Scott paused mid-bite, looking up into the face that looked more stormy than the rainclouds that had been hanging in the sky all day.   
  


Blinking in confusion, Scott watched his best friend angrily poke the mystery meat before asking “Say what?" because he  _really_  didn’t know what he wasn’t supposed to say. _Honestly_ , he really didn’t know what Stiles was talking about.  
  


"About how I smell!" Stiles hissed, giving Jackson a quick stink eye over his shoulder, turning back pointedly as Jackson snickered at his table.   
  


Smell? Scott took a delicate sniff of his best friend before asking, “Did you get a new deodrant or something? You smell different. Like… pine fresh." More accurately, he smelled like a forest. Dirt, dried leaves… forest-y smells. But that just sounded a bit silly to say and pine fresh, by comparison, seemed the far better option.  
  


"Pine fresh?" Stiles asked incredulously. Clearly his best friend wasn’t on board with smelling all nature-y. “Seriously? I smell like an air freshner?"  
  


Scott took another sniff, deeper and longer, before nodding. “Not really an air freshner but more…  _you_ I guess?" He took another discreet sniff, trying to focus on Stiles’ scent. It wasn’t something that he tended to notice on a day to day basis, the scent of the people he spent most of his time with. Other than the minor, surface changes like use of a new perfume or something, Scott hadn’t paid much attention to his friends base scents.  
  


Not since the early days anyways, when his senses were still getting used to being amped up to 11. But eventually, as he had gotten used to his super sniffer (Stiles’s words, not his), eventually, Scott had tuned out focusing on and trying to categorize the different scents. It was enough to be “i know that scent" instead of “the gingerbread and chemicals combo is Lydia but the peppermint and woodsy/flowery scent is Allison".  
  


And Stiles right now, smelled… Well, underneath the pine fresh scent was the sharp mix of mint and citrus peeking through. Although, there was something vaguely familiar about the pine fresh scent.   
  


"It smells familiar though." Scott commented distractedly, frowning slightly at that realization and leaning in. “Like I’ve smelt it before…" Dammit, it was right on the tip of his tongue this scent…"This deodrant  _definetely_  smells better than your last one, dude. The last one just...  _stank_. Oh!"  
  


He smiled at Stiles’, ignoring his half eager and half nervous expression as he asked, "You borrowed Derek’s spray didn’t you? It’s not half bad!"  
  


Scott was completely confused when Stiles abruptly dropped his head into the table with a solid whack, making the two lunch trays clatter again. Over Stiles’ bent head, Scott could easily make out Jackson a few tables over and how his shoulders shook hard with repressed laughter.  
  


"What?" Scott asked in confusion. “What I say?"  
  


> **05.**  
>   
> 

"Did you sprain your foot?" Scott asked in a voice pitched high with worry and surprise. At the end of last night’s run through the woods (faeries, who even saw that one coming? Scott sure as hell hadn’t!), he had left his best friend whole and healthy. Minus a few lacerations here and there because faeries might be tiny but when they were pissed off, they had claws that hurt worse than paper cuts. But a foot sprain had  _not_ been on the list of Stiles’ injuries. Scott knew cause he had checked!  
  


So as he stood in the doorway of Stiles’ bedroom, staring down at Stiles and Derek (who had similar deer-in-headlights looks as they stared back at the teen, not moving from their place on Stiles’ bed where Derek had Stiles' feet in his lap) waiting for an answer, he wondered when had Stiles hurt himself.  
  


Scott scrambled in, hovering in front of Derek, hands wringing together as he tried to look at the limb that Derek was holding in both of his hands. “You didn’t tell me you got hurt, dude!  _Not_  cool!" He bent down to get a closer look, trying to check for any injuries, fingers flitting past Derek’s fingers.  
  


Gingerly poking the ankle with his fingertips, Scott looked accusingly at Derek because  _clearly_ Derek should have wrapped the ankle up already if it was hurt!  
  


But instead of meeting his disapproving glance, Derek was giving Stiles a disparaging look. “You still haven’t told him."  
  


Aha! He  _knew_ it. Stiles had gotten hurt last night and hadn’t told him about it. Scott was going to have another talk with his best friend about being honest about being hurt (or else  _he’d_ get another lecture from  _Derek_ about being more careful of Stiles, which in turn wasn’t going to go down well with Stiles, who would take it up against Derek, which would come back to Scott. It would be a very bad cycle, that’s all Scott was saying.)  
  


Looking both amused and sheepish, Stiles replied, “Nope. It’s kind of fun not to. I was waiting for him to get it on his own."  
  


Frowning heavily at the pair, Scott got the distinct impression that he was missing something in the conversation. Were they not talking about Stiles’ tendency to get injured and then trying to hide his hurts from the others in some weird need to appear strong to the others? Up until the last reply, Scott was certain that all were on the same page but now…  
  


He eyed the pair in bemusement before asking, “Told who what? What are we talking about here?"  
  


Derek shook his head, lips flat in a ‘i can’t believe this shit’ frown that Stiles ignored in favor of grinning at Scott before chirping, “Nothing. First Aid kit’s under the bed."  
  


> **+01.**  
>   
> 

"Derek?" Scott called out cautiously, eyes sweeping across the loft in search of the older man. For a moment, he swayed in place in front of the front door and debated going back home and just calling the guy. He might have a higher chance of survival if he talked to Derek about what he wanted to talk about over the phone instead of face to face.  
  


While Scott was mentally tallying up the pro’s and con’s of both methods, the quiet click of a door opening made him look up in the direction of the bedroom. Derek quietly padded up to him, sweat pants hanging low on the hips, hair in wonderous disarray (Scott couldn’t, in all honesty, tear his eyes away from the sight. He finally understood the whole saying about hair looking like a birds nest.) and eyes sleep heavy as he came to stand in front of Scott.   
  


The alpha crossed his arms over his bare chest, looking highly disgruntled as Scott looked past him at the window. It was well past noon and Derek looked like he had just rolled out of bed - an oddity because Derek was an early riser. “Did you just wake up?" Scott asked, feeling slightly bad if he was responsible for waking the man up.   
  


Derek half shrugged in reply. “Is there anything you need to talk about?"  
  


Scott was tempted to huff at the man’s manners. Nearly 4 years together and his manners were still as rough as a cheese grater. “Yes actually." Maybe it was better to just jump right to the matter and skip the awkward small talk. Just go for the metaphorical jugular and get it over with. “I wanted to talk to you about Stiles."  
  


There was the slow narrowing of Derek’s eyes that typically meant that he was detecting bullshit or didn’t believe what he was hearing. “What about him?" Did Derek sound a bit nervous or was it just him?  
  


Scott sighed and rubbed his hands against his thighs, wondering if he was maybe over stepping his bounds by wanting to warn Derek to not take Stiles’ friendship lightly. It wasn’t weird that he felt a bit overprotective of his best friend right? And just for the record, it wasn’t like he was warning Derek because he was feeling a bit left out or scared that Stiles would leave him behind because they were best friends and best friends don’t leave each other behind like that.  
  


Right?  
  


Right.  
  


 _‘Good pep talk.’_  Scott chided himself, clearing his throat in preparation of the speech that he had been preparing for over a week.  
  


But instead of the whole ‘I know you both have been hanging out a lot together and I think it’s great that you both are bros and all but you need to know that if you guys have a fight or anything, I’m a. gonna be on Stiles’ side and b. totally gonna put sugar into your car’s engine or something for messing with my best friend so be nice to him’ speech, Stiles’s voice cut through the silence.  
  


"Derek?" The slurred question made Scott jump and Derek twitch, both of them looking towards the figure stumbling into the living room. “What’re you…Scott?"  
  


The sight of his best friend standing in Derek Hale’s loft wearing nothing but his boxers and an impressive array of hickey’s made his speech wither away in favor of a “Oh. my.  _God._ " croak. His brain was working overtime, all gears grinding and clicking into place so fast that his head  _spun_.  __  
  
  


Scott pointed his finger accusingly at Stiles, “You!" And then at Derek. “And _you_! You two. **You**!" Suddenly, a whole lot of things made a whole lot of  _terrifying_ sense and Scott had the bone deep urge that he had stayed at home and tried to call Derek’s cell. "For how long?!" Scott asked, feeling the urge to let out a pained sqwuack when Stiles came up behind Derek, slipped his arms around the man’s waist and rested his chin on a tense shoulder. “You two?  _Really_?"

 

"Told you it’d be more fun when he found out on his own." Stiles chuckled, eyes warm with humor. Derek simply snorted, arms unfolding so that he could pat the younger man’s arms as Scott pinched his cheek just to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating.  
  


This was… This wasn’t what he had been expecting  _at all_. Not even in the farthest stretches of his imagination had he thought that Stiles and Derek were… that they…   
  


The scent of mint and pinecones wafted up his nose, making Scott twitch in place. Which was right when his brain decided to pull the shittiest move ever and inform him that the pair in front of him smelled like each other. Plus hickey’s, their half naked state, bed hair and clearly intimate touching only meant one thing.   
  


 _‘Don’t forget that time when Stiles asked you if he smelled or not._ ’ His brain was a complete and utter asshole that sounded a bit too much like Stiles.  
  
  


"I hate you both so much right now." Scott groaned to the ceiling, falling back against the door with a heavy thud.  
  


Stiles snorted, which sounded far too much like Derek’s derisive snorts. Scott briefly lamented the fact that his best friend just had to go and pick up the alpha’s bad habits. “Considering that you interrupted us in the middle of morning sex, pretty sure I hate you more right now."  
  


"I did  _not_ need to know that!" Scott yelped, wincing as he tried his hardest  _not_ to think about Stiles and Derek having sex. Together. With each other. He could feel a headache coming on.   
  


"You might get more if you stick around." Stiles warned. The husky tone made Scott’s eyes pop open in fear. Derek’s hand was curled around Stiles’ cheek, gently directing Stiles’ faces towards his for what was sure to be a lazy kiss but that wasn’t the thing that made Scott yelp and bolt out the door. No, that would have been the sight of his best friend’s hands sliding way too low down Derek’s waist and dipping under the sweat pants that he was wearing.  
  


"I hate you guys!" Scott yelled through the door but he really couldn’t find it in his heart to be _truely_  mad when he heard the mingled laughter through the door. 

**Author's Note:**

> [on tumblr](http://chaoticwaltz.tumblr.com)


End file.
